


Within the Hollow Crown

by Nightrayspath



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Flashbacks, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Damen - Freeform, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24151780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightrayspath/pseuds/Nightrayspath
Summary: It was purely accidental that they stumbled upon it. It had lain forgotten in a corner of the treasury, a place where it did not belong. It was supposed to be with its owner. Buried in the ancient halls that held every member of the royal blood that had deceased. Yet the crown was laying on the table. Its gold had lost some of its luster. Dust and dirt were smeared across the once sparkling surface. Laurent remembered the first time he had held it in his hand. He had held it with awe and now he felt like it would crumble to dust would he touch it. Like his safety and happiness had crumbled between his fingers.Auguste’s crown was as beautiful as the day it had been made.
Kudos: 13





	Within the Hollow Crown

**Author's Note:**

> The second fic for the captive prince fashion zine.   
> A lot more sadness than I usually write.   
> Enjoy ~

It was purely accidental that they stumbled upon it. It had lain forgotten in a corner of the treasury, a place where it did not belong. It was supposed to be with its owner. Buried in the ancient halls that held every member of the royal blood that had deceased. Yet the crown was laying on the table. Its gold had lost some of its luster. Dust and dirt were smeared across the once sparkling surface. Laurent remembered the first time he had held it in his hand. He had held it with awe and now he felt like it would crumble to dust would he touch it. Like his safety and happiness had crumbled between his fingers. 

Auguste’s crown was as beautiful as the day it had been made. It was not overly decorated and rather simple in comparison to some of the crown styles that royalty used to wear. The dark blue gems stood in contrast to the golden metal. Only seven stones were integrated into the gold. Around the border, small and delicate designs were woven. A starburst with a jewel at its middle was the center of the crown. The last time he had seen the crown it had been on his brother’s head for a royal festival. He remembered it as if it were yesterday.

A crowd of people was dancing. Music had filled the air. His father had been smiling as he conversed with someone from the nobility. He had long forgotten his face. He had been watching the people as they swirled past him in an array of colours. Everyone wore decorated masks, some so fragile they looked like they had been made of glass. Feathers, jewels and gold gave the masks the special feeling that, to a young boy, it looked like a magical night had come to life. He had been fidgeting in his chair. The white fox mask he was wearing was itchy and he just wanted to get out of the uncomfortable fancy clothes. All the people that tried to catch his attention had made him uncomfortable. He would have much rather been reading in a corner of the library. As much as the dancers looked magical, he could feel hungry gazes on him. He did not want to have another noble attempt to introduce his daughter to him. He was slowly moving towards the edge of his chair. His father was busy talking diplomacy, maybe he would not miss him. Not like he talked much to him anyways. Just a small breather out on the deserted balcony. 

“Not enjoying the party?” The sudden voice behind him startled him and he nearly slipped off the chair. 

“Auguste!” Laurent tried to make his voice sound reproachful, but he did not succeed. His face lit up in a smile at the sight of his older brother. 

Auguste reached out and ruffled his hair. Laurent leaned into his touch. No matter how much he huffed, in the end he did not really complain as his brother’s fingers slid through his hair.  
“It’s boring.” Laurent said. He would forever deny that he whined. The only one that would hear him complain, pout and whine was Auguste.

“How about we get out of here?” Auguste said with a grin. The warm candle light made his golden hair glow. He was wearing his crown. It was sitting a little wonky. His white mask with golden trimming did nothing to hide his startling blue eyes. The beginnings of a stubble were starting to grow. Auguste hated shaving. He always nicked himself. Laurent had offered to do it once and Auguste had been less mauled than when he had done it himself. 

“Really? Won’t father get mad?” Laurent asked as he perked up. He glanced at their father who still seemed engrossed in his conversation. At the sound of his stomach grumbling, Laurent flushed and Auguste chuckled.

“Nah, he won’t even notice.” Auguste said as he lightly grabbed Laurent’s wrist and pulled him off his chair. 

“Let’s get you something to eat.” Auguste said as he pulled Laurent towards the dance floor. They disappeared in between the twirling dancers. Fluffy skirts twirled around the floor in all the colours of the rainbow. 

“Why the dance floor?” Laurent asked as he was nearly hit by one of the puffy skirts a lady was wearing as she twirled past. 

“Shortest way to the kitchen.” Auguste said with a grin. Another dancer nearly caused Laurent to double over.

“The quickest way for me to get trampled.” Laurent muttered as a wrinkled his nose. A heavily perfumed dancer had just swayed past him. 

“You’re just too short.” Auguste teased as he pulled Laurent out of the way of another dancing couple. 

“You’re too tall.” Laurent complained as he squinted up at Auguste. 

“You will outgrow me one day, I’m sure.” Auguste said as he patted Laurent’s head. By the time they reached the middle of the dancefloor, Laurent had been bumped into more times than he had wanted to count. 

“Step on my feet.” Auguste said as he pulled Laurent towards him. 

“I am not a toddler!” Laurent protested, but he still grabbed onto his brother’s side as he twirled them across the dance floor. Round and round they went. Laurent could not hold in his laughter as his world spun and his brother was his anchor. He was the only fixed point in a whirlwind of music and colour. He was becoming dizzy. 

The dancing nobles let them through as they chuckled at the childish antics. Once they reached the other side of the dance floor, Laurent’s world spun. 

“Come on!” Auguste said with a broad grin as he pulled Laurent out of the ballroom. The hallways seemed almost deserted. The gold decorations and the colourful tapestries seemed so dull in the darkness. 

“Last one in the kitchen loses.” Auguste shouted before he dashed off.

“That’s not fair!” Laurent called as he ran after him. Laughing and running were not a good combination, by the time they reached the kitchen he was panting for breath.

“Your stamina is lacking, dear little brother.” Auguste said as he gently brushed Laurent’s hair that had come loose out of his face. 

“Oh really? Who would have guessed.” Laurent said as he gulped in air. 

“Sure that you do not want me to teach you the sword?” Auguste asked as he opened the door to the kitchen.

“No, you’re the knight. I will stay with my books and be the advisor.” Laurent said as his breathing finally stabilized. 

Auguste looked into the kitchen and promptly closed the door again. Inside, servants were hustling and bustling about in what seemed to be a full blown panic mode. They would only interfere with their work and most likely not get anything to eat. 

“Let’s check the servant room next to the ballroom.” Auguste said. Indeed the room was much emptier and the tables at the walls were lined with trays filled with all kinds of foods. The servants would come in here to pick up the trays of food to hand out to the guests. Laurent and Auguste quickly hid beneath one of the tables as someone opened the door. They saw the polished shoes move across the floor before disappearing out the door. 

“Here!” Auguste said as he handed Laurent a piece of cake. Auguste had sneaked it from one of the tablets. There were no tissues nor plates so Laurent ended up with whip cream smeared all over him. Auguste laughed at the sight. Not that he looked much better with chocolate smeared on his fingers. They had spent the rest of the evening hiding beneath the table and stealing pieces of cake. The poor servants were so confused by the amount of cakes that disappeared. They had gotten caught at some point. Both of them received an earful, but it had been worth it. 

Laurent smiled at the memory. Carefully, he reached out and gently trailed his fingers over the crown. It was so cold to the touch. Even though the person that owned it had been as warm as the sun. He missed him. He missed his brother so much. Auguste was supposed to be here. He was supposed to become King. 

He was not supposed to die. Auguste should have never been on that battlefield. The blade should not have killed him. How dare Damianos kill his brother. How dare his uncle sit on his throne. It made him feel sick with the cold rage that burned like acid beneath his skin. Auguste was the one that was supposed to live. Laurent was the spare. He would have gladly died in his place. Maybe then everything would have been all right.

He could feel his mask crack. It had to remain in place. Even the smallest sign of weakness would mean his death. Still, he could not stop the tears that spilled forth. It hurt to think of him. He took a deep breath and forced all feelings away. 

He gently placed the crown back into the small case that he had found it in. He gently locked it before hanging the key around his neck. He would never allow the regent’s men to ever lay a hand on Auguste’s crown. He hid the case before brushing all traces of the tears that had fallen away. He would have to face his uncle and his brother’s murderer there was no weakness allowed. He locked his room and walked down the corridor with his head held high.


End file.
